


As Time Ticks On

by GoddessApostle



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, F/M, Grim reaper au, this is what O Death was meant to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessApostle/pseuds/GoddessApostle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's like a Ladybug," she tells him. "A sign of good luck."<br/>Her luck couldn't be any worse, he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Time Ticks On

**12:00**  
She tends her garden at 12:03 exactly.

_An odd hobby for the middle of the night,_ he thinks as he checks the watches on his wrist. He immediately focuses on the bottom one - the cute red one with the polka-dotted face. The hands are stuck, unmoving, both on the twelve. _One year._

He glances upwards when she sets her watering can down to rub her arms. A cat dances between her feet, mewing loudly for the warmth of inside. 

"Okay, Tikki," she says with a laugh. "Let's go to bed." She opens the hatch and disappears inside, clicking her teeth until Tikki follows. 

**12:07**

She tends her garden at 12:03 exactly. 

But never during the day. Well, maybe. He was never around when the sun was. As far as he knew, she only did this in the dark of the night. It certainly proved true for the past month and a half he'd been watching her. 

Usually she only waters her plants. But tonight, she is moving some into a bigger pot, one that she could easily hide in. The weight of it as she hefts it into the roof almost knocks her over the railing, and he almost rushes forward to help her, but she rights herself with a nervous giggle. Breathless, she sets it down, and breathless, he calms his pounding heart. 

12:10 

She always feels safe at night, and this night is no different. To hell with the feeling that she's being watched! To hell with the idea that someone has been spying on her for the last two months! It's paranoia is all, brought on by the way the news speaks of murder and war as if their the latest trends. 

She opens the hatch to her roof and shivers at the rush of ice and snow. Ignoring her need for warmth, she climbs up, more intent on helping her poor plants. It's as she finishes with them that she notices the darkness on the roof across from her. 

She squints at it, wondering why that one patch on the roof of the school wasn't covered in snow. She leans forward, trying to get a better look, and slips on some ice. 

Her hands flail, bumping the rail, the table, the ground, and she feels weightless for a second before gravity kicks in and she plummets. _I wish I could brace myself_ , she thinks as she's falling, but it's over before even she thought it could be. 

Strong arms have caught her and she wonders for a moment if she's still alive. The pain in her wrist suggests yes, but the stranger with the beauty of an angel suggests no. He hugs her to his chest, carrying her like a princess as he jumps from the ground to her roof. He sets her down with a gentleness she has seldom felt before, and is gone before she can even catch her breath. 

**12:22**

He finally shows himself again. 

It only took two months. Maybe he was out there watching her before she saw him again, though. She was always looking for him, but if he could make from the school to her in one jump, and from the ground to her roof in another, he could probably hide if he wanted to. 

But she always waits for an hour or so, in her warmest blanket, a mug of tea in her hands and a thermos in her lap. She's almost fallen asleep in this position on the night he returns, and she blinks away her sleepiness in favor of offering him the thermos. His eyes flicker down to it, then up to her face. 

"What are you doing?" he asks, and she smiles. 

"Saying thank you," she replies. "You saved me from falling before, remember?" 

Worry and guilt play across his face in a near imperceptible second. But he nods and takes the tea from her, giving her a small smile in return. They don't speak until he finishes it and he ushers her into her room to sleep in her bed and instead of the deadly cold. 

**12:32**

His one visit turns into two, then three, then weekly, and finally he's there every night, waiting for her to open her door. In the beginning, they would sit inside her room and talk for hours. When it's warm, they stay outside, watching lights sparkle on the river until the sun comes up. He chastises her for her challenging sleep schedule. She just laughs it off and tells him not to worry, she can handle it. 

It's a warm night that passes mostly in silence when she finally asks why he wears so many watches. He stiffens and rubs them, one by one. A trying task, considering they run from his wrist to his elbow on both arms. He lists names as he does it, one per watch, until he reaches one one the wrist of his left hand. He studies it for a brief moment before moving on, leaving that one unnamed. She takes that hand and studies the watch herself, absently noting that he is now watching her. 

"It's like a Ladybug," she tells him. "A sign of good luck." 

Her luck couldn't be any worse, he thinks. 

**12:40**

_"...beloved teacher Caline Bustier bravely defended her students..."_

The name rings a bell in Marinette's mind. She thinks back to where she heard it, along with three others she'd recognized recently. She writes them down in her notebook, along with where she saw them last. She grimaces as she realizes she read those other names in the obituaries. 

But they were in her head before that. Where they came from, she did not know. It took her a long time thinking to remember the way she'd heard them said - in a deep voice in the dead of night, rubbing a watch that seemed associated with it. 

**12:50**

There's a chill in the air. Adrien almost doesn't go to her tonight. She's been getting closer to the truth, he knows. He should stay away, start distancing himself. 

But she is so addictive. She is the honey that draws in the flies, the light that attracts the moths. He cannot help himself, he is drunk on the pleasant wine that is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and all he can do is crave more. His duty be damned! His guilt be damned! He will not allow any harm to befall her. Who cares what divine punishment be cast upon him? 

(He knows she does. She wouldn't want him hurt for any reason whatsoever, it doesn't matter if he's brought it on himself.) 

**12:59**

There's an accident in the park. A man falls asleep at the wheel of his car and it barrels onto the busy playground. It's a miracle no one was hurt. 

Well, almost no one. There was one woman that pushed a little girl out of the way. Her last thought was of green eyes and blond hair and watches, so many watches. 

The one they belong to is kneeling beside her as her final breath escapes her chest. He helps her stand, and she wants to look to her feet but knows she shouldn't. 

Instead she looks at him. At Adrien, with his tear-stained cheeks and guilty eyes. He refuses to look at her, and it takes her lifting his head to meet his eyes. She knows what he is, what he has to do. She tells him this, and he breaks down, crushing her to his chest and sobbing into her shoulder. She lets him cry, but urges him, with all the gentleness he's shown her, to make a promise with her. 

He nods, but doesn't speak, knowing his words will be little more than cracks and hiccups. 

**\--:--**

The cute red watch is gone now. It disappears at her funeral, as they always do. He's never attended one before, but he's never been that close to anyone before either. 

After all is done, he stays by her grave. He stays there, sitting in front of it and just looking. No one approaches him. No one comforts him. But as day turns to night, and night ticks away into morning, he knows he has to move. 

He goes into the city. 

He goes to her roof. 

He puts food out for Tikki. 

He sits to watch the lights sparkle on the river. 

He hates that he's alone now. 

But there's something he has to do. 

He tends her garden at 12:03 exactly.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at midnight and haven't read it since.


End file.
